The Emperor and the Diplomat
by Francienyc
Summary: On their first trip to the Lone Islands, Peter and Edmund discover each other's strengths. Gift fic for Acacia59601
1. Chapter 1

As soon as Edmund poked his head out of the hatch, the sharp sea breeze ruffled his hair. He grinned to himself and scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder. The Splendour Hyaline was almost glowing in the morning sun, and all about him the sailors whistled brightly as they went about their work on deck. Edmund heard a flapping noise and saw the main sail full with wind, the gold lion rampant shining and moving. The hour was quite early, but Lucy had still risen before him. He saw her in the bows of the ship, leaning over the railing the same way she would urge a horse onward. He laughed and went over to her.

"You know that doesn't make the ship move any faster," he said.

Lucy started and turned to him with a blush. "I know. I just can't wait to get there. This is so exciting, being on the water. I never knew I would like it so much."

Edmund leaned on the railing and watched the whitecapped water. "Nor I. I love the speed of it, the danger…"

"Going someplace you haven't been before. I wonder what it will be like in the Lone Islands. Do you think that Peter will have to lead another battle?"

He thought about this for a moment. "Probably not. We'll just have to make a show of it, set up Peter as High King and Emperor and march him down the streets and what have you."

She giggled. "You make it sound like we're entering him in a horse show."

"Well, that is a little what it's like," Edmund said with a grin. "Though probably more of a donkey show, because we all know how Peter can be a bit of an ass." He laughed at his own joke, but Lucy hit him on the arm.

"I thought things were better between you two," she admonished.

"They are," he reassured her. "I couldn't tease him so freely otherwise. It's a sign of brotherly love." When Lucy looked at him askance, he added "What do you want, Lu? Should I cuddle up to him at night when I have a bad dream?"

"Well maybe you should! He's very comforting, you know," Lucy declared, getting a little red in the face.

"Keep your hair on. I wasn't casting aspersions on you or Peter. That's just not my style. He's lucky I even let him hug me after Beruna. My incapacitation prevented me from protesting."

"Goodness, Edmund, you sound like a dictionary," Lucy commented with a smile which showed she admired her brother's intelligence. He shrugged and grinned, pleased by her compliment, and he leaned on the railing next to her. They both stared over the water.

"Do you know, there are days when I feel like we could actually reach the horizon?" Lucy resumed presently. "That one day, if we sailed far enough, we might hit a wall of sky as it reached the ocean." She glanced at Edmund with another blush. "I know it's silly, but sometimes I can't help feeling that way. The sky seems so close."

"No," Edmund said thoughtfully, "I understand. And besides, no one knows what's after the Lone Islands, unless they can tell us there. It could be anything."

"Can you imagine? I wonder what it must be like to live on the edge of the world, where all that lies beyond your beach are uncharted waters. Better still, I wonder what it would be like to sail and sail to find out."

He smiled at her. "We could, you know. We're a king and queen, free to do as we please. We could pack up the Splendour Hyaline and say farewell to everyone and find out for ourselves."

Lucy took his hands and turned to him with a look of sheer delight. "Could we? It would be such a wrench to say goodbye to everyone, but how I should like to go! Let us, Edmund!"

"I should think not," a voice said behind them, and they both turned to see Peter standing tall, his sea cloak highlighting the breadth of his shoulders and his golden hair and crown shining in the sun.

"And why not?" Edmund challenged with a scowl.

"First off, I'd be mad to give up my best ship on a fool's chase," Peter began, but Lucy interrupted him right away.

"But it wouldn't be a fool's chase. It would be an adventure. Isn't that what knights and kings and queens do? Don't they chase after the unknown?"

Peter shook his head. "No, Lu. Not us. We can't just go sailing off. We've got Narnia to think of. Yes, the Witch is gone and we think we've gotten all of her followers, but can we be sure? This country has waited for us for so long, we can't just turn our backs on them for our own pleasure. There's far too much to do at home."

Lucy hung her head and looked at her feet, ashamed, but Edmund bristled at the lecture. "I know what we've got to do," he said. "I wouldn't ever abandon Narnia. But I wouldn't turn away from an adventure, either, as if I was scared."

Peter's eyes flashed and his jaw tightened, but he didn't move. "Sometimes we have to turn away from adventure to do our duty," he said in a voice that was too measured. "Anyway, I came to tell you that Sallowpad has flown ahead of the ship this morning and he says the Lone Islands are close, we just can't see them through the haze. When it clears we'll see them, and he estimates we'll be there before sunset."

Sallowpad was right on all counts. The haze cleared and the golden glow that was covering everything dissipated, but they could see the three little islands low and green on the blue horizon. All four kings and queens stood in the bows to watch as they approached.

"Avra is the closest, then there's Felimath, and Doorn is the farthest, off to the left," Edmund said, pointing. When he saw his siblings' surprise he said "What? You three don't know how to read maps?"

"I think they're lovely," Susan sighed. "So lush and green. It would be nice to take a stroll on one of them."

"Then perhaps we shall," Peter said with a smile for her, "After we have established our presence."

"Yes," Susan agreed, adjusting Lucy's crown absently. "There will be time enough for maying after we finish our work."

Edmund pulled a face so the others couldn't see. He didn't understand why they couldn't land in the boat and cross Avra or Felimath while the ship rounded the cape, nor why Susan was being such a wet blanket when she herself obviously wanted to have a little fun. _Part of the fun of being a king is that you're free to make all your own decisions_, he thought to himself. _Peter and Susan still act like someone is trying to tell them what to do, as if they don't trust themselves_.

"Come on," Peter said, touching Edmund's shoulder. "We're near enough now that we should get ready." Lucy looked up at Peter and nodded. They had all decided that since this was their first visit to the Lone Islands, they would all don their state and festival clothes when they arrived and display their gifts. Peter would, of course, be carrying his burnished shield and his sword, Rhindon.

Edmund went down with him to change, and even though his fancy clothes were very comfortable, the fine velvet and silk seemed a little fussy to him after all the light cotton and linen he had been wearing on ship. Likewise, his crown felt rather heavy on his head. If Peter felt the change, he didn't show it. Rather, Edmund noticed as his brother buttoned his blue cape around his shoulders, Peter looked every inch the king. Their old life was slipping away fast, but Edmund remembered that before they came to Narnia neither Peter nor any of the rest of them had worn such royal clothes, and yet somehow, Peter seemed born to it. It was beyond all logic and sense.

Susan and Lucy came in to see if they were dressed, and when she saw Peter, Susan smiled with satisfaction. "You look so handsome, Peter," she said, "Just like a king." He blushed a little and mumbled his thanks as Susan turned to Edmund. "This gray looks well on you," she said, and her fingers made deft adjustments everywhere. He noticed that Lucy was standing very still, as if not to disrupt Susan's handiwork.

Peter now buckled his sword belt round his waist and looked around at everyone. "Come on, then. Let's give the Islanders a show." Edmund noticed there was a very tiny tremble to his lip, but he still walked straight and proud.

The ship was moored to the dock, and a crowd had already gathered when the four monarchs appeared on deck. The shields were out, and all the royal flags were flapping brightly in the breeze. Peter gave a nod, and the trumpeters began to play as the gangplank was lowered.

Two leopards began the short procession, bearing the royal scepter between them, then a Fox with a very loud voice which cried "Hail, Islanders! The prophecy is fulfilled; the Kings and Queens have left their seats at Cair Paravel and come to you! All bow before Peter, High King of Narnia and Emperor of the Lone Islands and his mighty consorts, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy!"

The Fox repeated this, and Peter inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders. He drew his sword with a ringing sound and held it high so that it glinted in the sun. He led the way, and as he stepped down the crowd gave a resounding cheer.

Edmund looked over his shoulder at Lucy. "You see? I told you. Just give them a show. They already think of him as their Emperor."

Lucy's eyes were trained on Peter. "Well, he does look it, doesn't he?"

And Edmund was forced to admit that he did.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: The dedication didn't come out in the last chapter, so I'm putting it here. This is a gift fic for Acacia59601, who was the 100th reviewer of "All the Dreams that Might Have Been." She requested a Golden Age fic featuring Peter or Edmund, and this is what I came up with. I'm rather liking this story-on-request thing--it's fun, and I don't know if I would have come up with this myself. P.S. Look ma! Shorter chapters!  
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Peter kept his eyes on his sword as he held it aloft before him and set his jaw. He could not appear nervous, he knew, even though he was shaking inside. Only a few months before he had no power over his own destiny, much less the fates of Edmund, Susan, and Lucy. He and his brother and sisters had been packed up and shipped across England like parcels, the culmination of a life where he was completely helpless. Then they stumbled through a wardrobe, and here he was marching down the streets of Narrowhaven as Emperor. All the people in the throng were under his dominion. At his word, he could change their lives for better or for worse. That terrified him, for what if he spoke the wrong word? He kept his eyes straight ahead.

Edmund was walking beside him now, and Peter could feel he was almost strolling, swinging his arms at his sides. "I say, Peter, take a look at these faces. These aren't happy people."

Peter glanced at him briefly. "They're cheering now."

"Yes, _now_. But you get the feeling that they haven't cheered about something for a good long time."

Peter looked around and saw that he was right. He had been so wrapped up in himself that he couldn't see what Edmund saw with his unclouded eyes. He looked ahead of him again, but now he glanced at the people as well as the turrets of the governor's palace rising before him.

The governor met them at the gates and knelt before Peter. "You are most welcome, o Emperor."

Peter sheathed his sword and took the governor's hands in his. "Rise, good sir. We thank you for your kind hospitality." The governor had offered neither food nor shelter, but this had not escaped Peter's notice, as evidenced by the arch in his eyebrow.

The governor caught this look—indeed it was impossible not to notice—and he bowed hastily. "Of course, of course." He addressed a nearby servant. Make ready the Emperor's rooms, and those of his…er, cortege."

Peter stepped forward and addressed the servant himself. "And those of the King and Queens of Narnia, " he said in a sure voice. He looked at the governor sharply. "Are you not familiar with the prophecy? There are four thrones at Cair Paravel, and my brother and sisters reign alongside me."

Edmund noticed the ripple through the courtyard after Peter spoke. The high note of surprise and the raised eyebrows told him that no one had ever spoke that way to the governor. Though his eyes flashed displeasure, there was nothing he could do but bow and make his apologies.

Peter examined the castle carefully as they were shown to their rooms. The palace was a gracious building in the Narnian style, but the people were so skittish of him. No one in Narnia acted like this. They smiled and greeted him warmly, and that was just as he wanted it. Edmund's comment from the parade stuck in his head, and he noticed that Lucy drew close to him as they wandered the passageways.

He wanted to get Edmund alone to ask him what he thought was wrong with these people that they were so afraid of authority, but he never got the chance. The inhabitants of the castle administered him and his siblings with a thousand unnecessary attentions the whole of the afternoon. The best he could manage was a brief interview with Lucy when she slipped into his room for a few minutes before dinner. She knelt on the bed and helped him fit his crown on and chatted away blithely.

"It's so warm out today, and they made me take a hot bath. They said it was in the true Calormene style with rose petals and scented water and everything, but I was terribly uncomfortable. Apparently they thought it was a very high honor." She paused and looked thoughtful. "I don't really like it here, Peter. All the people make so much of a fuss over me, and they keep talking about Calormene ways as if they're the best. I miss Narnia, where people talk to me honestly and look me in the eyes."

He smiled at her. "Me too, Lu. But perhaps we can get the Islanders to behave more freely as well. At least, I think we ought to try."

Lucy nodded. "Yes, Peter. Let's." Peter found he admired his youngest sister's resolve. She looked quite noble and queenly as she thought this matter over, yet years before—no really, it was only months—she had been a girl in uncomfortable clothes who had never left her mother before.

He rose and offered her his arm. "Come on, Lucy. Let's go down to dinner and make a start."

The governor was hosting several guests, all of them dark-skinned men in turbans who bowed very low and paid Peter all manner of flowery compliments and hoped he lived forever. He noticed, though, that their eyes were blank as they said these things, and that made their voices all the more oily. Oily was the word for them, he thought grimly, for it applied to their toilet as well as their manner. They had perfumed turbans and oiled beards and curled mustaches. The hair on their faces was so overly decorative that Peter, who had been wondering if he ought to grow a beard to make him look a little older, swore that he would never grow a beard at all. That was his first impression of Calormenes.

He also grew to understand that the servants in the castle talked so much about Calormen because the visitors were frequent guests, either these particular lords or others like them. Though logic told him this was natural since the Lone Islands were geographically closer to Calormen than Narnia, some instinct told him to be a touch on guard about this fact.

He listened carefully to the dinner conversation without adding much himself. He didn't really trust himself to talk in front of people he didn't know because he felt that his authority was such a fragile thing. One schoolboy phrase and all might be lost. He left the talking to Susan, who was so gentle and charming she could soften anyone, and Edmund, whose mouth worked quickly but whose mind worked still quicker these days. Peter listened, and he watched. He noticed, for example, that the girl attending him was hardly older than Lucy. This started to distract him so much that while everyone was listening with rapt attention (or some facsimile thereof) to a sample of Calormene poetry, he grabbed her wrist while she refilled his goblet with wine.

"Don't think me too forward," he said, "But what dire circumstances has your family fallen under that you have to work at your age?"

The girl started and blushed so much Peter was almost sorry he had asked the question. He happened to glance at Lucy, though, and he felt he had to find out for her sake. Imagine if she were forced to labor at her age. "Please don't be afraid," he said. "I'm only asking because I want to help you."

She looked into his face, and though she shook the tiniest spark of hope took light in her eyes. "Please your Majesty, I don't know what you mean," she stammered in a whisper.

He didn't want her to be afraid, least of all of him, so he began again more gently. "What is your name?"

"L-Lorena," she faltered.

He smiled at her. "Then Lorena, I only want to know why you have to work when you're so young? Has your family fallen upon bad times and you have to help them?" Peter asked.

"I—I don't know. I've always had to work. They make me." She lowered her eyes, and the wine jug shook in her hands.

"Who makes you?" he insisted.

She cast a very fearful glance at the governor. "He does."

"But why? Is there no one to speak for you? Where do your wages go? Why are you being forced to work at such a young age?" Peter's whispered questions grew so fervent that the governor cast his eye on the girl from the other end of the table.

As soon as she saw this, she tried to draw her hand away. "Please, your Majesty. I don't know. Let me go."

He took the jug from her other hand and placed it on the table. "Do not be afraid of him. You are safe with me. I am his K—Emperor."

"Yes, but he owns me."

"_Owns_ you?" Peter's astonishment outweighed his delicacy, and he spoke in a loud voice. "Do you mean to say that you're a slave?"

The conversation at the dinner table stopped and every face was turned to him. Lorena was near tears, and Peter let her go. She took up her jug and rushed to the corner where she tried to make herself as small as possible. Since everyone was staring at him, there was nothing for it but to question the governor. "Does she speak rightly?" Peter asked. "Is she a slave?"

"That has been the practice for many years," the governor answered smoothly.

"Then the practice is about to change," Peter replied with a fierce look in his eyes.


End file.
